Читать книгу Pregnant by Morning - Kat Cantrell - Страница 10

Four

“Evangeline.”

It flowed from Matthew’s mouth like a prayer. Yes. That fit this angelic, winged woman who had bared herself to him in more ways than one.

He drank in her face, and it jolted something inside, as if his soul had done a double take and said, There you are.

“Angie is a nickname. Evangeline is who I am.”

A nameless emotion tightened his throat. “I’m honored you trusted me with it.”

She’d done far more than simply remove her mask. The significance of it sent a flood of guilt through him. Guilt because he could shed his physical mask—but not his internal one.

And still he drew off his mask and dropped it to the floor. “Allow me to reciprocate.”

For a long while, she fixated on his face. His neck heated. Who would have thought taking off a mask could provoke such intensity?

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Most people call me by my given name, but if you want to address me as God, I won’t argue.”

She laughed, pushing her firm breasts into his chest. “Way to defuse the moment. That’s a rare talent.”

He’d intended to diffuse his own embarrassment at her frank admiration, which even Amber had expressed infrequently. But if Evangeline chose to believe he had superpowers, so much the better.

“Are we finished with the revelations?” he asked.

“Not even close. Now that I’ve seen what’s under that mask, I’m dying to peel away this suit—” she flicked his bow tie “—and get a look at the rest of the goods.”

“I hope it meets with your expectations.” His voice dropped. Nerves. Of all things.

Before fully internalizing the implications, he swept Evangeline into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Any man who can do that without having to catch his breath most definitely has a body that’ll meet my expectations,” she said as he laid her on the bed. “Oh, wow. That’s quite a fresco.”

Matthew glanced up at the ceiling, where stucco divided sixteen individual paintings last touched by a brush during the Renaissance. “It’s my favorite.”

“I like it, too. I’ll lie here and look at it while you fetch the condoms out of my clutch. Which is downstairs.” She flipped him a cheeky grin as he cursed.

He cursed some more as he tromped back down the narrow stairs in search of the errant bag. It was still attached to her dress, but instead of pulling out a couple of condoms—because who was he to question how many they’d need—he untied it and brought the whole thing.

The bulging sides of Evangeline’s clutch induced a healthy dose of reality. He was about to have sex with a virtual stranger, one whose face he’d seen for the first time less than ten minutes ago. Halfway up the stairs, he paused.

Was he really going to go through with this?

It was one night. One night in which he had an opportunity to turn the tide of his grief and rejoin the living by spending time with a beautiful woman who made him feel ten feet tall—feel being the operative word. One night when he could act recklessly with no one the wiser. He was in the most romantic city in the world, perhaps on purpose, and he wanted all that Venice had to offer.

Evangeline was draped across the cream-colored comforter when he strode through the bedroom door. She studied the ceiling with pursed lips, hair spread out underneath her and breasts freely on display. That lack of inhibition—it staggered him. Excited him.

His body hardened in anticipation, and his fingers tingled as he recalled the smoothness of her bare skin. This one night was a rare offer from the universe, and he was incredibly lucky to get it.

She glanced over with a sultry smile. “You. Come here.”

Only a fool would pass up what was clearly fate.

With one hand, he got rid of his shoes and socks as he crossed the room. He tossed her clutch on a pillow and stared at her gorgeous form, flawless in the lamplight. “Hold on a minute.”

He pulled a book of matches from his bedside drawer and lit the candles lining ornate sconces on each side of the bed, then clicked off the light.

“Nice. You could have gotten me here a lot faster if you’d said that was the first thing you’d do once I’m naked.” She sat up and grasped his lapels, drawing off his jacket with a quick yank. “And you have on too many clothes. I’m feeling self-conscious here.”

He let the jacket fall to the floor. “I can’t imagine why. You’re beautiful.”

Flames flickered over her skin and threw honey highlights into her curls.

Her hands, which had been busy with his tie, rested flat on his chest, and she rose up on her knees to meet his gaze. A hundred emotions poured from her expression, passing between them in silent communication.

“You know why,” she said.

He did. In her eyes, he saw the same things she no doubt saw in his. They had an understanding, nonverbal and mystifying, but very real. He’d felt it from the first moment in the hall. He felt it now.

She was self-conscious not because of her nakedness, but because she’d removed her mask and feared learning she’d made a mistake in trusting him.

This night was about two damaged people seeking a port in the storm. He was going through with it because he wanted to live up to her trust. Wanted to fall into a woman so different from any he’d ever met, one so wrong for a real estate broker from Dallas, but perfect for a man who didn’t know who he was or how to live his life anymore.

He wanted to see what happened if he let go of all the rules. It couldn’t be worse than the purgatory of the past eighteen months.

If he did it right, it would be spectacular. Meaningful. And Matthew did everything right.

“I’m not going to disappoint you,” he said hoarsely.

“I know. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Her voice had grown impossibly huskier as well, skating across his skin, burrowing its gravelly hooks into his center. “I’ve just never done anything like this before. Never wanted to.”

Well, that made two of them. Hopefully they could figure it out together. “No expectations. No rules.”

“I remember. Except I have this one rule.” She made short work of removing his bow tie and began slipping his shirt’s buttons free with deliberate care as she peeked up from under her lashes. “I get to explore first. You have to wait your turn.”

He went so hard, his spine curved. Had a woman ever undressed him so provocatively?

“That’s a pretty unfair rule. Why can’t we do it at the same time?”

“Because I said.”

The last button popped from its mooring, and she slid blazing fingertips across his bare chest on her way to his shoulders. His shirt came off in her hands and she yanked it halfway down his arms, trapping them against his side.

“Actually,” she added, “the rule states I get to explore twice, once with my eyes and another time with my mouth.”

Said eyes roamed over his exposed skin as she pulled him closer with the grip she had on his shirt. Without warning, she spun him and tied his hands behind his back with the fabric.

“Oh, now that’s really not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war.” Still on her knees, she turned him back around to graze a fingertip down his chest and into the waistband of his pants. “I’ll let you go when I’m done exploring.”

She drew him closer and dropped his pants and briefs to the floor, ravishing his erection with her eyes, as promised.

He kicked his pants away. “I can easily break out of this you know.”

“You won’t.” Her light tone fooled him not in the least.

This was love and war. And holy cow, did that get his juices flowing in a way he’d never have guessed. He’d play along, but she better believe he’d be dishing it out when he got the chance.

With a soft sigh, she twirled her finger. “Turn around. I want to see it all.”

He faced the wall opposite the bed, slightly uncomfortable and enormously turned on by the notion of her eyes traveling up and down his naked body.

“When does the mouth exploration start?” he called over his shoulder.

Her answer came with a soft touch at the base of his spine. Hair brushed his skin as she nibbled upward and his long-neglected body erupted with heat.

By the time she reached his neck, her tongue had joined the party. He groaned at the wicked swipe of wet heat against his earlobe, and allowed her to spin him slowly as she followed the line of his jaw with her lips.

Then there was no more talking as she kissed him.

He wanted to drag her into his arms and respond in kind. But he couldn’t. His honor forced him to stay constrained as she did her best to drive him mad. He spiraled closer to the edge as she tilted his head in her palms to take the kiss deeper, teasing her nipples across his chest in a tantalizing back-and-forth dance.

Evangeline broke the kiss, arching her back sensuously. The silk of her thong brushed his length, and he nearly came apart right then and there.

No. He breathed heavily through his nose and clamped down on his reaction.

“Matt,” she breathed into his ear, and the low croak was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. “When I first saw you, I noticed those capable hands. I want them on my body. Now.”

She reached around to pull the knot of his sleeves apart, but he’d already yanked his wrists free.

His mouth was on hers instantly as he slid both palms down the heat of her back to cup her bottom. Smooth. Arousing. He crushed her against his erection and plunged into sensation, freely allowing his body to revel in the impressions, the awareness. Finally, he felt something other than frozen and disoriented.

As he dipped underneath the triangle of silk at her thighs, she moaned and strained forward, seeking his fingers, throwing her head back in pleasure.

That was as arousing as the feel of her skin.

She was nothing like Amber.

He willed away the comparison—ghosts had no place here. But the thought circled and grew. Amber had been sophisticated, elegant. Beautiful in the way of a glass swan with special handling requirements.

He’d always held her in slight reverence as the future mother of his children, and they’d shared a strong relationship anchored by common interests and goals. Their love life had blossomed into something wonderful and good. But conducted in the dark, under the sheets, which Matthew never minded.

This was something else, something erotic and animalistic and wicked. Evangeline wasn’t Amber. And there were no rules tonight.

He wanted to bury himself in this woman and be resurrected a new man.

* * *

Evangeline enfolded Matt with her arms and willed him to hurry. But there was no rushing the man she’d been goading with tied hands for the past few minutes.

His fingers wrapped her in a veil of pleasure as they slowly traveled across her skin, spinning magic through her center as he touched her everywhere—inside and out.

Yes. Exactly what she needed—to be filled, valued, appreciated. Accepted.

With incredible restraint, he lowered her to the mattress and drew off her underwear, then crawled up the length of her body, laving every inch of skin as he went. He reached her throat and tilted her head back to taste with hard suction. Simultaneously, his thigh separated hers, relentless against her sensitized flesh and setting off pyrotechnics behind her eyes.

She’d never dropped into such heavy desire so quickly, never been so hot and ready to explode. Usually it took a while. But then, they’d been engaged in foreplay in one form or another since their first meeting in the hall.

Was it any wonder Matt was about to take her under with only his thigh?

His tongue circled her breasts, then treated her to the same intense suction he’d used on her throat. Her back came off the bed, arching, as her feminine parts contracted. She gasped.

“Now, Matt.”

It was supposed to be a demand, not a plea. But the words left her lips on a broken sob, and she no longer cared that a man had reduced her to begging.

He extracted a condom and fingered it on. It took an eternity but then he was back between her thighs, sliding into her. Watching her as they became one and their gazes locked. Something powerful, divine even, swelled between them and her heart thumped in time with the throb in the air.

No, she’d never done this before because she had no idea what this was.

It certainly wasn’t a random hookup. But neither was it safe. The deeper the connection, the deeper the eventual pain.

She’d taken off the mask in a calculated gamble, and Matt hadn’t recognized her. It should have allowed her to simply revel in this one night where a man couldn’t hurt her because he didn’t really know her. It should have been freeing. Not confusing.

Desperately, she cast about for a way to eliminate the swirling mass of vulnerability this man evoked by simply looking at her. Through her.

“Not this way.” She wiggled and he rolled to his side, confusion evident.

“Too soon?”

“Too missionary.” Waggling her brows, she knelt on the bed and glanced back at him. “Try this on for size.”

He grinned and instantly heated her back with his torso, mouth to her neck as he filled her again from behind. Much better. Now she couldn’t see all that depth of emotion. And vice versa. They’d pleasure each other and stave off the loneliness for a night and go on.

His fingers teased her flesh. Clearly this was not his first rodeo. She let her senses flood with Matt and moaned as he lit her up expertly. His name fell from her lips and too late she realized it didn’t matter if she could see his face. His touch conveyed more depth than she’d dreamed possible.

Tears pricked her eyelids. She wanted that touch to mean everything she sensed it did. But was terrified to admit it. How could she convince herself this was nothing but a brief divergence if he kept touching her that way?

The orgasm, quick, powerful and amazing, swallowed her whole long about his second thrust, and he exploded with his third.

She collapsed, chest to the bed, and he spooned her into his arms, both of them still shuddering. He held her tightly and she curled into him, shocked at how natural it felt, how right, when normally she preferred not to be touched as her body cooled.

“I have never come so fast in my life,” she gasped. “I think that’s my new favorite position.”

Though somehow, it hadn’t been quite the cure for her confusion that she’d envisioned. And lying here in his arms with his thumb tenderly stroking the curve of her waist wasn’t helping. The powerful flames of desire he fanned weren’t sexual. She wanted Matt to be different. Special.

She should get dressed and leave. Right now, before she found out he wasn’t.

But if she left, what then? Spend the rest of the night alone, huddled in the dark, listening to Vincenzo’s guests party till dawn?

“It’s definitely my new favorite position.” He cleared his throat. “Though I’m willing to try a couple of others to verify. In a few minutes. I know we have all these condoms, but you’re not an easy woman to recover from.”

She had to smile at that. Nice to know it had been staggering on both sides.

A part of her had prepared to be kicked out. Maybe hoped she would be—it was safer that way. Not all men liked a woman hanging around afterward. Finding out Matt didn’t fall in that category thrilled her. Dangerously.

“What if we just talk?”

Where had that come from? She never stayed.

She nearly took it back, but her soul ached, and Matt inexplicably salved it. Morning was soon enough to escape. For now, she wanted one whole night of fantasy, where nothing mattered but being with a man who liked her and wanted her around.

His lips curved up against her temple. “A continuation of our speed date?”

The chilly palazzo air raised goose bumps on her arms. “Well, I’m not sure how we could find any more levels of compatibility. But okay.”

He laughed. “Yeah, we gel. At least in bed, which is fantastic. It’s been a while.”

“Really? How long?”

Rolling her gently to the side, he pulled the covers free and nestled her back in his arms underneath them, like he’d read her mind. “A year and a half. Or so.”

Oh, God. “Are you like, religious or something? Did I make you break vows?”

“No.” He was quiet for a long time. “That’s when my wife died.”

Something hot exploded in her chest. His pain—she’d seen it, knew it was there, but never would have guessed its roots went so deep.